Martha stiffened, trying to force a smile, but it looked more like a grimace.
“Oh—sir—this is all a misunderstanding,” she said quickly. “My niece gets… dramatic. Kids, you know?”
Gabriel’s gaze barely flicked toward her. His focus was on Lily—her bruised cheek, her scraped toes, the feverish twins clinging to her.
“Is that true?” he asked quietly.
Lily swallowed. The instinct to lie—to protect herself—was strong. She had learned early that telling the truth usually made things worse.
But something about the man—his calmness, the way he knelt down to the twins’ eye level—made her feel safe for the first time in a long while.
“They’re sick,” she whispered. “They were crying. I gave them the last milk. Aunt Martha got mad. She said… she said we’re trash.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened.
Roy stepped forward, puffing up.
“Look, man, you don’t get to stick your nose in—”
Gabriel lifted a hand, and Roy’s voice died instantly.
“Do not finish that sentence.”
There was something in the man’s tone that made even the neighbors shiver.
Gabriel pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
“Dr. Isaacs,” he said, “I need a pediatric emergency team at my location. Two toddlers with fever, possible dehydration, possible neglect. And send CPS. Now.”
Martha’s eyes widened.
“You—you can’t just call CPS!”
“I can. And I did.”
Within minutes, two SUVs and an ambulance arrived. EMTs gently took the twins from Lily’s arms, wrapping them in blankets and checking their vitals. A CPS worker knelt beside Lily, asking quiet questions.
Then, one of the EMTs spoke.
“High fever. They’re dehydrated and underweight. This didn’t happen overnight.”
The CPS worker turned to Gabriel.
“You’re the reporting party?”
“Yes,” he said. “And I am not leaving until these children are safe.”
Martha’s voice rose hysterically.
“She’s lying! Those brats lie! That girl ruins everything—”
“Enough,” the CPS agent snapped. “You and your husband will step back.”
Roy tried again to bark something, but an officer blocked him.
Lily watched everything happen as if it were a dream. Someone wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. Someone else offered water. Voices blurred together—questions, instructions, orders.
Only one thing was clear:
Something enormous had just shifted.
Gabriel crouched beside her again.
“Lily,” he said softly, “I need to ask you something important. Do you know your mother’s full name?”
Lily nodded.
“Rebecca Mercer.”
For the first time, Gabriel’s expression cracked—shock, disbelief, and something deeper.
He whispered, almost to himself,
“I knew Rebecca Mercer.”
He stood abruptly and spoke to the CPS agent.
“I want to volunteer as a temporary guardian until the court assigns placement. I was close to her mother. She would want me to help.”
Everything stopped.
Martha stared at him.
“You? You’re nobody!”
Gabriel turned to her, his gaze like steel.
“You have no idea who I am.”
Two weeks later, the courtroom was packed. Reporters were outside; Gabriel Sloan’s involvement had attracted attention immediately. Sloan Aerospace wasn’t just a major company—it was his company. And the CEO showing up to a child neglect hearing made headlines.
Lily sat beside Gabriel, her hair brushed neatly, a new backpack by her feet. The twins were in a separate room with CPS staff, recovering well.
Judge Harrington entered, flipping through the file with a deep frown.
“This,” he said, “is one of the worst preliminary reports of neglect I have read this month.”
Martha shot Roy a panicked look.
Their lawyer rose.
“Your Honor, my clients simply lacked resources—”
“No,” the judge cut sharply. “This is not about poverty. This is about cruelty.”
He turned to Gabriel.
“Mr. Sloan, you’ve petitioned for temporary guardianship. The court needs to understand your connection to the mother.”
Gabriel stood.
“I met Rebecca Mercer twenty years ago,” he said. “We were in the same engineering program. She interned for my company the year before she passed. I didn’t know she had children. If I had, I would have looked for them.”
He glanced at Lily.
“And now that I’ve found them—or they’ve found me—I’m not letting them disappear again.”
Murmurs rippled through the courtroom.
The judge nodded slowly.
“And you understand this is a significant responsibility?”
“Yes.”
The judge turned to Lily.
“Lily, do you feel safe with Mr. Sloan?”
She nodded.
“He… he listens. And he bought medicine for my brothers. And he doesn’t yell. And he makes sure we eat.”
Her voice cracked.
“He’s the first grownup who didn’t look away.”
Even the stenographer paused typing for a moment.
The judge leaned back.
“That is clear enough.”
But before he could speak, Martha lunged to her feet.
“This is insane! She’s lying! We fed them! She’s manipulating you—”
“Mrs. Klein,” the judge snapped. “Another outburst and I will hold you in contempt.”
Martha froze.
The judge closed the folder.
“The court hereby grants temporary guardianship of Lily, Evan, and Eli Mercer to Mr. Gabriel Sloan, effective immediately.”
Lily gasped.
Gabriel placed a steady hand on her back, grounding her.
As deputies escorted Martha and Roy out for further questioning, Lily whispered,
“What happens now?”
Gabriel knelt, meeting her eyes at level.
“Now,” he said softly, “you come home. Properly this time.”
“Home?” she repeated.
“Yes,” he smiled gently. “Home.”
And for the first time in her eight years, Lily believed the word.
